


Personal Space

by oreiad



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bodyswap, Fluff, High School, M/M, and each other, but some mild teen angst moments??, just 2 dumb high school boys trying to figure out feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 13:31:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15050162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oreiad/pseuds/oreiad
Summary: "Don’t be an idiot, Iwa-chan!”“Oh god, that stupid nickname sounds even worse in my voice.”“Everything sounds worse in your voice, Iwa-chan!”Or,Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tohru accidentally swap bodies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> eternally thankful for the long awaited bout of insomnia and procrastination that always brings me to write more fic (albeit always very short fic)

Yesterday, Tohru’s aunt had visited, gotten drunk, then proceeded to relentlessly mock his short relationships and current singlehood. He stayed pissed off throughout her visit, deflecting her obnoxious taunts with a twitching eyebrow and a reluctant noise of agreement. Anything to get her to shut up for a while. But before she had left (finally), she pulled Tohru aside, all unbalanced force and swaying feet, and handed him a red pouch.

He took it, confused. Thanked her.

But she wasn’t satisfied. Her lips curled, and she slapped Tohru on the back. “This isn’t a regular _omamori,_ you know! This one grants _wishes!_ I had to go to some temple in the middle of nowhere for this!”

He sighs, taking the _omamori_ that she excitedly (albeit unsteadily) waves. “Yes, yes, thank you, really,” he says, gently nudging her in the direction of the door.

Just as he manages to push her past the door, she forces her head back in. “Oh, but I already wished for you so hope it comes true! Anyway, see ya!” She disappears, and the door clicks shut behind her.

He had rolled his eyes, but tied the pouch around his bag strap all the same. Fortune was fortune after all.

Tohru doesn’t know why this is the only incident on his mind as he stares down at the body beside him, feeling his unfamiliar features contort into panicked horror. Iwaizumi and Tohru had slammed into each other during practice, both engrossed in separate practice matches with the juniors.

But even the unprecedented carelessness of the incident still doesn’t explain—

Yahaba runs over to the two of them on the floor, one sitting up, the other still sprawled across wood. “Iwaizumi-senpai, are you okay?”

Tohru looks at him, at his worried eyes and sweat-stained hair. A deep, shaky breath forces its way into his lungs as he begins to really grasp the situation now, even without a mirror. He presses down on the hysteria threatening to burst through at the bubbling realisation. “Yeah,” even his voice isn’t familiar anymore, the tone of it reverberating against the inside of his head, “I’m okay. It’s just Oikawa.” He points at the unconscious body on the floor, very clearly still alive as it abruptly winces in pain.

 _It?_ He? The pronouns are confused, and so are the names. Tohru is having the biggest migraine of his life. He dusts himself off, shakily getting to his feet—even the weight of this body feels strange, spread differently than his own—and says, “Could you help me get a stretcher? We’ll carry him to the infirmary, and then practice can continue.” He’s lucky the coaches aren’t here today, if not he won’t be able to get away with staying at the infirmary for the rest of practice.

Yahaba nods, runs off.

Tohru looks down at the body—his body? Iwaizumi’s? _Fuck_ —and sighs.

 

The infirmary is empty now, the nurses having just gone for lunch, and turns out transferring Tohru’s own well-practised smile to Iwaizumi’s face still has charms (albeit to a reduced extent, Tohru is absolutely positive). So the nurses ended up agreeing to letting them stay in the infirmary by themselves during lunch.

Tohru sits up on the bed beside the one Iwaizumi’s lying across. The nurses had checked for signs of a concussion, and had examined his injuries, and told Tohru to immediately call them back if Iwaizumi woke up. Or well, more accurately they had referred to the unconscious figure as ‘Oikawa Tohru’.

Iwaizumi jerks, stuttering to consciousness. He pushes himself up on the bed, cradling his head in his hands. He groans.

Then stops.

Tohru can see the shades of confusion begin to colour in his face.

“Yo, Iwa-chan!” He grins, head tilted, and Iwaizumi’s head snaps to him. His expression morphs into one of pure, unadulterated horror as his eyes blurrily trace the length of Tohru—Iwaizumi?—sitting on the other bed.

 _“What the fuck_ —”

“We’ve swapped bodies, it seems.” The statement is matter-of-fact, flatly delivered. Tohru can see that it pisses Iwaizumi off, and the latter would probably lunge over to headbutt him right now if it weren’t for the fact that he was looking back into his own face.

Iwaizumi sits up too quickly and winces. Tohru has half a mind to tell him to _relax idiot_ , if not for the hard set of his face. “How—How did this _happen?_ ”

Tohru shrugs. “I wish I knew, but I honestly have no idea.”

The silence scrapes as it settles between them. “Then what should we do?” Iwaizumi is the one who asks, and somehow, with Tohru’s face and voice, it makes him seem smaller.

Tohru hums. “It happened after our heads slammed together, so maybe if we... do it again?” He suggests, tentative, knowing the other will dive at the opportunity to _solve_ and _act,_ but at the same time having watched him in pain for the past fifteen minutes.

Iwaizumi jumps up, and even though Tohru sees the way his teeth grit, he doesn’t comment on it, simply lifts himself to his feet, just as he has always done. Right now, Tohru imagines they look symmetrical. Then, Iwaizumi takes a step forward. He grips Tohru’s head, and goddammit, Tohru would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about this happening before, but _obviously_ not with _his own fucking face._ Whatever. Tohru closes his eyes, braces for it.

Iwaizumi _smashes_ his forehead into Tohru’s, and Tohru is almost flung back onto the bed by the force of it, if not for Iwaizumi’s firm (albeit faltered) grip.

Their vision settles. Iwaizumi clicks his tongue and lets go, falling back onto the bed. “It didn’t fucking work!”

“Calm _down!_ We haven’t even exhausted our options yet, don’t be an idiot, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi growls, and it sounds so out-of-place in Tohru’s voice that Tohru has the urge to stop associating himself with that body. “Oh god, that stupid nickname sounds even worse in my voice.”

“Everything sounds worse in your voice, Iwa-chan!”

“...I’ll punch you.”

“This time, I know the threat isn’t real because you won’t punch yourself!”

Iwaizumi pauses. Then, “I’ll punch your own face!”

Tohru gasps. “No! Not my _face!_ You know it’s my most favourite part of me!”

The other smirks, utterly satisfied. “So, about the options you were saying?”

Tohru pouts. “I mean, if you bothered to think for a second…” he grumbles, “it happened in the gym, so we’ll probably have the best chance of reversing it there.”

Iwaizumi jumps to his feet again, and Tohru’s irritation urges him to push Iwaizumi back down and shout _can you not tell you’re injured_ but, of course, he doesn’t. Instead Tohru just says, _“_ Relax _,_ Iwa-chan. We can’t just show up in the middle of practice and then bash our heads together, right? Right?”

Iwaizumi sits down. “Then when they leave? You can—” He blinks, cuts himself off. “I can get the keys from—who did you pass it to?”

“Yahaba.”

“Yahaba.”

And Iwaizumi’s eyes settle on him, and sure, everything else is off, but the gaze stays the same. Tohru is really more freaked out by how he can still recognise every shape and shadow of Iwaizumi’s thoughts rather than how the other is wearing his own face.

Tohru watches Iwaizumi, and his eyes light up. Iwaizumi has seen that look, Tohru knows, senses it when the other freezes. “You know what would be fun?” Tohru sings.

“No.”

“ _You_ —Iwa-chan, are you a child?”

_“What?”_

Iwaizumi’s response is resigned, both a threat and a concession. Tohru grins. “What would be fun is if we stayed like this for a while!”

The spiker stares at him, distaste twitching at his features. “I’m not here to fulfil some kind of niche fetish of yours, Oikawa.”

“Niche fetish?! Coming from someone who watches—”

Iwaizumi leaps over, backhands Tohru on the mouth.

Tohru clutches his lips, indignant, but also unwilling to give up just yet. “Listen to me, Iwa-chan! There’s still afternoon practice. We just ask for the keys after school, say we wanna set up first to practice, then we get all the time in the world to smash our heads together!”

Iwaizumi scrubs his hands across his hair, groaning. “Shit, after school?”

“What’s the rush, Iwa-chan?”

“Maybe I don’t want to look like _this_ my whole life, _trashykawa.”_

“Oh, but that way at least you’ll be upgrading! I’ll regress!”

_“I’ll kill you, shittykawa.”_

The doors slide open, and the both of them still. Tohru leans his head back, sighs, then pushes himself out of the bed, plastering a smile across his lips.

“Is Oikawa feeling better?” One of the nurses asks, voice kind.

“Yeah, he just woke up! I was on my way to find you actually.”

“Oh! Good thing we came back now then.” She smiles, and moves over to examine Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi and Tohru share a look over her shoulder, and Tohru’s smile morphs from something well-practised to well-hidden. Iwaizumi notices. Snorts.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa and Iwaizumi meet each other's classmates ft some brief OC interaction!

Hajime has thrown his bag across some random table, unsure of where Oikawa usually sat. He eyes the people around him, lips pressed into a thin line. Some guys catch his eye, wave. Hajime nods, sits.

He stares straight ahead, actually  _ feeling _ all these people around him and  _ fuck _ are people supposed to be that close to each other? He hears Oikawa’s annoying sing-song in his ear now:  _ Iwa-chan you gotta fix your personal space issues! _

He’d aimed a volleyball at his feet for that, but now, feeling all these people walking all around him (so they were avoiding him before?) he feels his  _ personal space issues  _ surface. He needs them further away. He needs a human hamster ball.

A hand slams his table and a separate pair of legs slide up it. He startles, jerks his head up.

The boy who had sat on the table yelps, stumbles off. “ _ Woah! _ What’s with that  _ face?” _

The girl takes her hand away, slaps the boy on the back, laughing. Now they are both laughing, and Hajime watches them roll around each other for a while, mystified. He doesn’t get the joke.

The two of them finally calm down a little, and the girl squats to match his eye level, wheezing. “I’ve never seen you so  _ serious!  _ Miracles really do happen!”

Something clicks in Hajime’s head. He’s never seen them before, but these are the two classmates Oikawa talks about all the time. Haru and Hana. The three of them have known each other since middle school, and they’re the only people Oikawa really talks to outside of the volleyball team. This is the first time Hajime’s ever seen them though.

Haru punches Hajime’s arm lightly, before wrapping his own around Hajime’s shoulder, still doubled over and shaking. Hajime stiffens, thinks  _ is this normal for Oikawa? _ and has to stop himself from throwing Haru on the floor. He dismisses it as more of his  _ personal space issues _ , settles for staring at Haru until he looks up.

The boy stumbles again, surprised. Hana looks between the both of them, says, “Woah, Oikawa, what’s up with you? Really.”

“Nothing.”

Hana tilts her head, smiles. “Fight with Iwaizumi again?”

Hajime’s forehead crinkles. “What--”

“Class, settle down!” The teacher bangs a fist on the chalkboard, using her other hand to wave everyone back to their seats.

Hana mouths,  _ we’ll talk later. _

 

Tohru slumps across his table. He was hoping to see Iwaizumi’s friends just  _ present _ themselves you know? Because he hardly talks about them so  _ of course  _ Tohru had wanted to find out more! He always talks about Hana and Haru, even though Iwaizumi is the shittiest listener ever! That’s how much he cares!

And  _ nobody _ has come up to him so far--not just that, everyone’s giving his table a  _ wide berth _ .  _ Is Iwa-chan being bullied?  _ He thinks, then huffs. Impossible. Idiots never get bullied. Nobody likes easy targets.

Someone pulls a chair up to sit in front of his table. “Good morning.” Her head is tilted. Tohru warily notes the attractiveness of that head.

“Good morning.” He keeps his actions restrained to the signature Iwaizumi stare-and-nod.

“So I heard there was an accident at volleyball practice this morning?”

Tohru’s brow twitches up. He leans forward now, smile cocked. “How’d you know?”

She squints, suddenly confused. “You forget Yahaba’s my brother or something?”

He blinks. Yahaba has a sister? “Right. The accident must have hurt me a lot more than I’d realised.” And Iwaizumi knows?

Yahaba’s sister’s squint deepens. He notices the way she leans forward, eyeing the millimetres she slides across the table. “You sure you’re okay?”

Of course he’s not fucking okay. “Super duper!” He grins, bright.

Her jaw goes slack. There is a moment of silence as Tohru processes what he has just done with Iwaizumi’s face. Then, she laughs. A delayed burst of laughter rings from the other side of her. A boy abruptly drags his chair from the table beside her to sit next to him.

He smiles at Tohru. Tohru warily notes the attractiveness of that smile. He flails his hands. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile, Iwaizumi!” He leans forward, doe eyes a sparkling liquid.

Tohru looks between the two of them, sees them staring at Iwaizumi with that same kind of  _ look _ he knows painfully well, and  _ seethes.  _

Also, what the fuck, how come Iwaizumi has more charm than him?

“You’ve been spending too much time with Oikawa.” She tilts her head, voice soft but still bubbling with amusement.

“The accident got you bad, huh?” He asks, still smiling. “You know, for such a bad accident, there isn’t a single visible scratch on you.”

He thinks back to his aunt now, her  _ omamori. _ “Weird.”

The boy’s brows furrow as he nods, slow. “Yeah, weird.”

The teacher walks in before he can think of a reply. She slams a stack of books on the table.  _ Grins. _ “Good morning class! Today is going to be  _ fun.” _

 

Five minutes to break. Tohru’s phone vibrates under his table. He eyes the teacher, then discreetly slides it out. The screen lights up. Iwaizumi?

_ Lunch. Rooftop. _

Tohru’s eyes widen. Somewhere in middle school, they had stopped having lunch together. Placed in different classes, had their own group of friends to hang out with. Though occasionally, when Tohru was feeling extra shitty, he would find himself at Iwaizumi’s desk and suddenly Iwaizumi has dragged him all the way to the rooftop for a wordless lunch. Though Tohru figures this lunch won’t be all that wordless.

The bell for break rings. But is he somewhat annoyed that it takes a supernatural incident for Iwaizumi to initiate lunch?  _ Of course. _

The teacher dismisses them. Tohru stands. The girl and the guy both turn back, anticipatory. Does--Does Iwaizumi usually lunch with them? 

Tohru shakes the phone in his hand, giving a crafted apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s Oikawa.” Their faces fall.  _ That’s right bitches it’s me. _

The girl seems to recover fairly quickly, even as the boy looks as if he’s just heard about the death of a family member. 

“There’s always tomorrow.” She smiles. “And everyone knows Oikawa is your number one.” She says this without any venom, as if simply a fact of life. Tohru greatly enjoys this.

He nods, starts to leave (and if there’s a slight spring in his step he can’t help himself), but then pauses. He turns back. “Also, is it just me or is everyone avoiding me?”

The boy startles from his daze. “What do you mean?”

Tohru shrugs. “Seems like they were giving my desk a  _ wide _ berth this morning.”

The two of them exchange looks. The boy raises his brows, and huffs a laugh, high and sincere. “Everyone  _ also _ knows that you have ‘personal space issues’.”

Tohru resists the urge to fist-pump.  _ I TOLD HIM SO. _

 

The bell rings. Hajime reaches under his table for his wallet and phone (at least they had had the foresight of exchanging valuables) and pushes his chair back. Oikawa’s probably already there somehow, as he always is.

Haru and Hana slide over just as he makes the move to stand. He looks at them, continues standing.

“Uh, Oi--Iwaizumi’s waiting for me,” he says, politely, easing between them to get to the door.

Haru and Hana exchange confused glances behind him, and Haru grabs Hajime by the shoulder before he can make it too far.

“Heyyy, slow down there  _ big boy _ .”

Hajime grimaces and turns around begrudgingly. He doesn’t like physical contact, nor being called a  _ boy _ (much less a big one). Oikawa really knows how to choose his friends. He sighs, rubbing his temple with a hand.

“Make this quick?” He abruptly lilts the end of the sentence and adds a smile when he remembers whose face he’s using. There is a moment of silence. “I really,  _ really _ gotta piss,” he says, with that same smile.

Hana’s eyes widen. “Uh, you having a stroke, Oikawa? Never do that with your face again.”

Hajime shrugs. “Just really gotta piss.”

“Yeah… Anyway before your rendezvous, Haru  _ heard _ some things.”

“So apparently, Yamazaki from 4-2 has this big plan to confess to you after your fanclub meeting later.”

Hajime’s face twitches. In what kind of fucking world is this a normal issue for a person? He’s going to kill Oikawa. “Yamazaki… like, the  _ senior? _ Wait, doesn’t she have a boyfr--sorry, did you just say  _ fanclub meeting?” _

“Yeah,” Haru says, slow, “Yamazaki’s your fanclub president. Doesn’t she always send you the schedule -- you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just -- what the fuck?”

Hana snort-laughs, shoves Hajime lightly on the shoulder. “Whatever, you should be used to this by now. It’s a problem for a later time, go have lunch with  _ Iwa-chan _ , dumbass.”

Hajime walks out of the classroom with a bitter taste in his mouth. Since when do people call him  _ dumbass? _ He hates this body.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi and Oikawa have a quiet lunch on the school rooftop.

Oikawa is always the first to arrive when it’s just the two of them. Hajime suspects that it’s at least partly because he gets a few moments to soak up the attention a lone Oikawa always attracts before Hajime arrives to scare them off.

This time, though, Oikawa is still the first to arrive, but he’s sitting against the railing of the rooftop, eyes glazed over as he watches the clouds, a glossy, barely-there kind of smile stirring on his lips. It would probably be a nice picture, the kind Hajime would be keen to revisit whenever he needed to ground himself. He closes his eyes. Briefly imagines that expression on Oikawa’s own face instead.

Okay. Whatever. He heads over to the boy spread lazily across the corner of the rooftop, away from everybody else, and finds himself feeling slightly sorry when Oikawa startles out of his reverie. Hajime plants himself messily beside the other boy, spreading out food he had just bought for the two of them.

“You don’t always have to pretend to like people, you know,” Hajime says, conversational.

Oikawa looks surprised.

“I’m just saying. You don’t have to surround yourself with people all the time. It’s okay to be an introvert. Want your own moments.”

Oikawa jumps to answer, suddenly defensive. “Okay, I mean, it doesn’t mean I don’t like people, I—I still enjoy _your_ company, don’t I—”

“Didn’t say that.”

“I—okay.”

“But you’re an attention-seeking introvert, if that makes you feel better.”

“ _Okay,_ first of all—”

“A narcissistic introvert.”

“Well, you’re a stupid introvert!”

“I’ll hit you.”

“No you won’t.” Oikawa looks smug, sure of his words.

Hajime looks at him, head tilted, face blank. After a while, “No, I won’t.” He grabs a random onigiri, starts biting out of it. “My face is too valuable for that.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow at Hajime’s onigiri. “What is in that?”

“No idea.”

“Iwa-chan, you’re a heathen.”

“Don’t eat then.”

Oikawa huffs, grabs a melon bun and rips open the packaging. “So,” he says, as he begins chewing, “you never told me you were _that_ popular, Iwa-chan.”

“Huh?”

And the genuinely confused expression on Hajime’s face seems to piss Oikawa off even more. “You’re kidding me? You’ve _never_ noticed? Never ever? How _everyone_ has a crush on you?”

Hajime’s expression doesn’t change. “Uh..huh… Some kind of Oikawa Tohru effect?”

“No!” Oikawa’s gesturing grows less controlled. “You’re _kidding me._ The smartest kid in your class—uh, what—”

“Hayashida.”

 _“Hayashida!_ He came _all_ the way over from the other side of the classroom just to ask you a basic maths question!”

Hajime shrugs. “Yeah, he always does that. Probably just likes having a second opinion.”

“I gave him the wrong answer _on purpose_ and I could see it in his damn face he _knew_ that that was the wrong answer and he still smiled and _thanked me!”_

“Being nice is a crime?”

“And there’s _moreI”_

Hajime cuts him off. “Okay, but… So?”

“So?!”

“So… Even if these people do like me that way… so?”

Oikawa whines. “But you should know so you know who to avoid!”

“Who says I should avoid them?”

“You should!”

“Because…”

“Because they might make moves on you and you might—--you could be in danger because you’ll reject them.”

“And your admirers aren’t dangerous?”

Oikawa deflates a little. “It’s different.”

Hajime watches Oikawa, the way he pouts and crosses his arms, face reddening just slightly as he turns his head away. It’s a distinctly Oikawa expression, even with Hajime’s face, and in that moment Hajime swears the face he sees is no longer his own, but Oikawa’s again.

Hajime takes another bite of his onigiri, says, “It doesn’t matter. I’d never reciprocate, anyway.” Swallows. Takes another bite.

Oikawa doesn’t turn back, but Hajime notes the way his shoulders loosen. At some point, he relaxes into his thoughts, eyes drawn to nothing in particular, the both of them chewing in the quiet.

In a way, Hajime knows that their conversations don’t really mean much, just easy words being carelessly passed around. Even as ridiculously loud and sociable as Oikawa is, they both still haven’t found a way to speak that satisfied both of them. Each sentence still straining to encapsulate the entirety of one’s thoughts. To Hajime, the way everyone else talked to each other was so pointless, thoughts lost in speech because no two people had the same idea about a single word. It was frustrating, to say something only to know it would not, would never get through to someone else. And really only Oikawa tolerated him in this regard, albeit with much protest.

He supposes that Oikawa would be happier if Hajime made things plainer to him. But he also knows, as he watches Oikawa right now, gazing at the clouds, eyelids half shut and incidentally shutting off his thoughts as well, that Oikawa is thinking of something Hajime would struggle to understand. In a way, he supposes his reasons are also selfish. Oikawa would never allow himself so deeply into his own head in front of anyone else, too concerned about what the other will see. And if Hajime lets himself be drawn in, he can almost make out the faint outline of an unfamiliar fear.

He supposes he would be happier too, if Oikawa made things plainer to him.

“What are you thinking about?” The words are out of his mouth before Hajime can even stop himself.

Oikawa’s eyes flicker to him, searching his face before sitting up. His expression is hard to read, as it usually is in moments like these. He smiles, and Hajime lets go of a breath. “That’s new.”

He shrugs. “I’m always wondering.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen slightly. “That’s also new.”

He leans back against the railing.

The other boy watches him and huffs a short breath, an almost-sigh, as he gestures between the two of them. “I was thinking about this.”

It was hard to not understand what he meant with Hajime’s own face looking back at him.

“About changing back?”

Oikawa nods. “And about not changing back.” He rests his head in between his hands. “I’ve spent the whole day thinking how this could possibly happen. Did we do something, was something done to us? Was this meant to be a good or bad thing?” He smiles a little. “Thought this would be funner.”

Hajime hums.

“But I guess we’ll have all the time in the world to think about that after we exhaust our options.”

“I would hardly consider our options exhausted just yet.”

Oikawa smiles. “Exactly. You get it.”

The comfortable quiet settles between them again. They finish their food and clean up, and begin to head back down.

 

 

It takes Hajime a moment to realise that the screaming was for _him._

“Oikawa, Oikawa!”

Well, not technically him, but… _him._

A group of girls suddenly have him surrounded before he’s even figured out where the voices were coming from. Both of his arms fly up to protect his torso instinctively. The girls are startled, probably too used to Oikawa’s greasy charm. In the ensuing silence, Hajime clears his throat, attempting to look over their heads for some much needed greasy help as he tries to settle into a greasier demeanour.

He smiles. Says, “Sorry. Sick.” Hopes it is enough. What the fuck does Oikawa usually say? It’s hard to hear over all the screaming usually. And _usually_ , Hajime is gone before the girls are even _visible._ This is already too much for him.

Where the hell is Oikawa?

The girls start cooing, talking about how they’re so glad they caught him, the others would be so jealous, they had been worried since in the afternoon...He’s successfully tuned them out. A finely honed skill any friend of Oikawa’s has been forced to develop.

Which is why it takes a second for Hajime to figure out that the noise has stopped. The girls are staring at something behind him, eyes full of fear. He tilts his head to look and has to stop himself from laughing. The expression Oikawa makes on _his_ face is fucking _ridiculous._ So full of pure petty spite. And yet. Hajime is somehow comforted by the fact that that expression still belongs to him only, no one other than him having actually seen it on Oikawa’s face before.

The girls look from Oikawa-as-Hajime to Hajime-as-Oikawa, before Oikawa-as-Hajime stalks forward a step, and the girls stutter something before fleeing.

Hajime can’t help the smile that shows. “Eventful. Thanks.”

Oikawa suddenly flits to a different train of thought, as he so often does, the previous expression completely erased and having left no trace behind, something else entirely in its place. He smiles too. “I wasn’t even trying to scare them off! Just that special face of yours, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime’s smile twitches.

Oikawa laughs. “Kidding! You have the best face. See you later at the gym?”

“Sure. I’ll grab the keys from Yahaba.”

Oikawa flashes him an okay sign as he starts walking away.

Hajime watches him, head tilted. Wonders how it’s possible for him to literally be in his body, but still not any closer to what’s inside his head. He starts walking toward his classroom.

Must be too thick a skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back in another exercise in procrastination!! You might not believe me but this is really one of my favourite stories to write, especially since I imagine Oikawa and Iwaizumi to both be very contemplative and I imagine them to have very interesting thoughts!


End file.
